Quil's Careful Cowboy (Tales from Biders Clump Book 2) Read online

  Mr. Royal gave her some hope. Cameron seemed like an honest man, but could she truly trust him? Only time would tell. Her busy mind turned to wondering if there was a way to ensure his loyalty to the Rocking A. It did not hurt that the man was easy on the eyes either, except for that beard. Perhaps she would see if mother needed anything from town in the morning.

  After all, she really should get to know more about the man they were entrusting with their livelihood. Snuggling into her blankets, Quil started thinking and soon her dreams were full of new ideas she had never thought before.

  Chapter 5

  “No Mama, it’s just a slight headache, really,” Sara smiled wanly at her mother. “You go on to town. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

  “If you’re sure,” Maud said, skeptically eyeing her daughter. She had never known Sara to be anything but healthy. “Have a cup of tea and take it easy,” she added, kissing her daughter on the cheek and running her hand over her forehead, just to be sure.

  “I will, I promise,” Sara sounded more like her normal self.

  “I’ll bring you back some sweets,” Prissy called back over her shoulder as she lifted her wrap from the hat rack by the door and stepped outside.

  The sound of the horse and wagon pulling away from the house echoed down the lane as the voices of Sara’s sisters and mother faded into a bright blue day.

  Opening the door, Seraphina Adams skipped toward the woods with a smile, the deep green of the pines beckoning to her.

  “How’d you get away so quick?” a male voice drifted on the air from a clump of birches.

  “Mama decided to go to town. Something about Herman and shopping,” Sara said, racing through the grove and into Rafe’s waiting arms.

  The young man smiled, dipping his head to kiss her warmly. “I’m glad. I have something to tell you, but who’s Herman?”

  Sara laughed, a tinkling sound in the clear air. “Herman’s our bull.”

  Rafe scratched his head forcing his hat back on his head at a rakish angle. “You mean that big old Herford your pa bought?”

  “Yes. You know he’s still not nearly as wild I expected him to get out here.” She waved her arms to encompass the wide hills, steep mountains, and rolling green valley.

  “Your ma’s not planning on selling Herman, is she?” Rafe asked.

  “Oh my, no,” Sara said, her bright green eyes dancing. “Mr. Royal, that’s the new man we hired, he has an idea that people around town might be interested in ahh, well, Herman’s services so to speak.” She blushed slightly and Rafe chuckled.

  “I see,” but his laughter didn’t last long. “Pa just brought a new bull in from back East,” he said, “he’s a slow fellow though,” he added squinting.

  “Now what did you have to tell me?” Sara asked, taking his hand and walking over to his horse, who was grazing lazily among the trees. “Hello, Chester,” she said, reaching out and stroking the speckled horse affectionately. She and the big Appaloosa had become good friends since Christmas.

  “I found this,” Rafe said, pulling something from his vest pocket. “I’ve been snooping everywhere I can think, of trying to figure out why our families are at odds.”

  Gently he handed her a faded photograph. “That’s my Pa,” he said pointing at a man that looked much like him but with darker hair and a thicker build, “and that’s your pa.” This time he pointed at a young man with a wide grin on his face and flashing light eyes.

  “And that’s Ma,” Sara said incredulously. “They were friends.” She lifted her eyes to Rafe’s and he stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from pulling her to him and kissing her senseless.

  “Do you know what this means?”

  Rafe shook his head, still studying Sara’s lips.

  “It means they weren’t always at odds.” She stamped her foot. “There has to be some way to find out what happened. I can’t keep sneaking away to see you.” A bright tear sprang to her eye and Rafe crumbled. Gently he pulled her to him, wrapping her in strong, warm arms.

  “We’ll find away,” he whispered into her hair. “Soon, I hope,” he added. Since Christmas, he and Sara had been seeing each other on the sly, but with the feud between their families, they couldn’t let anyone know.

  “Oh Rafe, I just want us to be together. If only my Ma and your Pa would bury the hatchet.”

  “We’ll find away, darlin’, I promise.” Tipping her face up to his, he kissed her softly.

  After a moment, he pulled back with a frustrated sigh. “What chores do you have today?” he asked, stepping away.

  “Only the usual stuff,” Sara shrugged. She sounded dazed. “We need more fire wood,” she finally said with a grin.

  Rafe shook his head. “I should have guessed,” he chuckled. “Come on, I’ll help you. As if you hadn’t planned it that way.”

  Sara laughed, grabbing his hand in hers. “Come on, Chester,” Sara called, “today you can come, too.” The big white Appaloosa gelding fell into step behind them.

  “Rafe,” Sara spoke plaintively, “We have to figure this out.” She stroked his hand where it rested in hers as they walked toward the wood pile. “If they were friends before, there must have been a falling out, but what could make good friends start hating each other?”

  “You don’t think they quarreled over land, do you?”

  “I can’t imagine my mother being so cruel about land.” Sara said, “I mean we share a border with the Brody’s as well, and we don’t have any trouble with them.”

  Rafe lifted the ax and Sara set a length of log on the chopping block.

  “I’ll ask Dobbs about it,” Rafe commented, swinging the ax in one smooth motion. “He’s been at the ranch the longest, maybe he knows something.”

  “Rafe do be careful,” Sara said, moving the split wood and placing another chunk in their place. “If your Pa figures it out, I think he really will disown you.”

  “I almost wish he would,” Rafe spat, the ax landing with a resounding crack. “I’m tired of sneaking around just to talk to you. You know I’m crazy about you.” He swung again and another piece of log fell in two even wedges.

  “It will all work out, Rafe. I know it will.” She prayed every night that it would work out. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved Rafe.

  Rafe rested the ax head on the ground, and leaned across the handle, kissing her quickly. “I know darlin,’ but I don’t want to wait forever.”

  For another half hour Rafe and Sara worked together, cutting logs into manageable chunks of wood for the cook stove or fireplace. The nights were still cold, but the afternoons were warm and bright.

  “I’d better get back,” he finally said as he stacked several more tiers of wood near the kitchen door.

  Sara stuck out her bottom lip, “I wish you never had to go again,” she said, her eyes teasing but her heart heavy.

  “Someday soon,” he whispered, stealing one more kiss. “We’ll figure this out and then…” he didn’t finish the statement; he knew he didn’t have to, as he swung up on Chester and turned for home.

  ***

  “Sara, what have you been up to?” Maud asked as she entered the kitchen. “Where did all this wood come from? You said you were going to rest.”

  “I don’t know what happened,” Sara said cheerfully. “I had a nice cup of tea and rested a bit then,” she shrugged, “and I felt like my old energetic shelf.”

  Maud shook her head, but Prissy giggled. “Sara, you do beat all,” she said. “Here.” She handed her sister a tiny brown paper bag. “I only had a penny so there isn’t much, but it is lovely.”

  The heavy clunk of boots on the floor indicated that Mr. Royal had entered. “Here’s the rest of your things, Mrs. Adams.” he offered politely. “If you don’t need anything else, I think I’ll head out and do some exploring.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Royal,” Maud said. “you’ve been very helpful.”

  The young man tipped his hat and exited, leaving the ladies to their own de
vices.

  Cameron swung back up onto Snap and turned toward the western area of the ranch at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. They’d happened upon Mr. Brody in town while the ladies were doing their shopping, and he’d told Cam that he could most likely find Herman and his harem in that area.

  “Come on, Snap,” Cam said, pushing the horse into a smooth trot, “let’s go find the king of the range.”

  He found the herd, nearly two-hundred cows and calves, grazing peacefully near a steep cliff in a green meadow. The land was ideal for cattle, with lush pastures, deep valleys and winding hills.

  Cameron clicked to his mount and pushed forward as he started down a long slope. A low bellow drifted toward him and a large red shape moved across the grass in a slow lumber.

  The bull’s white face, framed by short curving horns, lifted as he bellowed a challenge again. The animal was huge and thick, his massive shoulders broad, even if he didn’t stand as tall as his long-horned counter parts.

  Cam pulled rein and leaned on his saddle horn. “Hello there, old man,” he called softly. The big bull lowed back, stretching his stocky neck and lifting his head. Around him, cows began lifting their long-horned heads to look at the lone rider on the hill.

  Somehow, Cam didn’t think bringing Herman in to make new friends was going to be as easy as he’d hoped.

  “Howdy Mister!” a high-pitched voice called. “You that new fella workin’ for Ms. Adams?” A fresh-faced boy of about thirteen came ridding toward him on a rangy gray horse with black knees.

  “I’m Cameron Royal,” Cam replied, keeping an eye on the bull and his herd.

  The boy approached comfortably, not minding the cows at all as he sidled up to Snap. “I’m Amos Brody,” he stretched a hand to Cam. “Pa said you might come out to look for Herman,” the boy offered conversationally. “He’s really something, isn’t he?” the boy added brightly.

  “He’s a fine-looking bull, I’ll have to agree,” Cam offered.

  “What you gonna do with him?”

  “The plan is to hire him out for breeding,” Cam said, still watching the herd, watching him.

  “That’s a good plan. Plenty of folks’ll want a heavier stock to offer for sale. You get some steers with shoulders like Herman and you’ll be able to ship earlier at a better price.”

  Cam smiled at the boy’s knowledge. He was a true rancher’s son. “Problem is, how am I supposed to convince Herman to come along quiet like?” Cameron mused.

  “Ah, that’s no problem,” the boy said with a smile. “Herman’s a funny old fella. Not like the longhorn bulls. Besides, Mossy’s the one that runs the herd.” He pointed to a large brindled cow with a twisted horn next to a spotty calf.

  Cam nodded, recognizing a lead cow when he saw one. He knew from experience that wherever that lanky cow moved, the rest would follow, even Herman. “So, I should start moving Mossy,” he said, not really asking.

  “No one moves old Bossy Mossy,” the boy chuckled. Cameron turned to stare at the boy. The whole point of a cowboy was to move cows.

  “Besides,” the boy continued, “You only want Herman, right?”

  “Well, the rest of the herd should be alright without him,” Cam said sardonically.

  “Then let’s bring Herman in,” the boy said with another grin, and pushed his horse forward, a shrill whistle emitting from his lips.

  Cam kicked Snap forward, thinking the boy would soon be in trouble with the defensive bull, and sure enough, the two-ton animal began moving toward the gray at a trot.

  Cam pulled Snap sharply toward the boy, prepared to cut in front of the charging bull to save him, but just as he did so, the big animal slowed, snorted and shook his head.

  Amos deftly moved his horse around Snap and extended his hand to the big bull, who curled his large pink tongue around something the boy held.

  “Herman loves peppermint sticks,” the boy called over his shoulder with a huge grin, then started laughing. “He’ll stomp the life out of a rival or a coyote but all I need is a peppermint, and he’s like an over-grown puppy.

  Cam shook his head, a deep rumble forming in his chest as he laughed, but cut it short as the bull rolled his eyes at him.

  “Come on Herman,” Amos spoke, still grinning. “I’ve got more peppermint sticks for you if you’re a good boy.”

  As the boy and the lumbering bull moved further from the herd, Cam watched the cows go back to their placid grazing, noting that old Bossy Mossy was the last one to lower her head as her calf began to nurse.

  Chapter 6

  “Mama! Mama! Come quick.” Priscilla called, racing through the front door and skidding around the corner into the kitchen.

  “Good heavens! What’s the matter?” Mrs. Adams sprang to her feet, a scowl of concern on her face.

  “It’s not bad,” Pris called, “well I mean, Oh I don’t know. Just come.”

  Maud Adams moved across the cabin and out into the early dawn of a new day.

  “I was going to milk Bell and well, he was just there.”

  “Who was just there?” Maud asked.

  “Sugar?”

  “What? What on earth are you talking about.”

  “Look!” Prissy said, pulling open the barn doors, “There.” She pointed to a stall at the end of the barn.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Priscilla Adams grasped her mother’s hand, dragging her to the end of the barn. “Look,” she grumbled, pointing into the dark reaches of the stall.

  “Oh my!” Mrs. Adams gasped. “Where did he come from?”

  A soft whinny and the sound of shuffling hooves carried from the stall as a long-legged, white horse stuck his head over the door.

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you. He’s here, it’s like he materialized from thin air.”

  “Don’t be silly, Prissy,” Maud’s voice sounded strained. “There must be an explanation.”

  “It’s wonderful to see him, isn’t it?” Prissy reached out and stroked the horse’s face. “I’ve missed him terribly.”

  Maud’s heart softened and she laid a gentle hand on her middle daughter’s shoulder. None of the girls had complained or grumbled about their diminished resources, but she knew how it had broken their hearts to part with their horses.

  “Sugar always has been a sweet soul,” Maud agreed, “but don’t get too attached, he’ll most like have to go back to where ever he came from.”

  “Perhaps he wandered home somehow and Mr. Royal put him in the barn.” Prissy postulated, leaning her cheek against her old pony’s forelock with a sigh as she stroked his nose.

  “Mornin’, did I hear someone mention my name?” Cameron entered the barn, a questioning look on his face as he saw the new horse. “You got new stock?”

  “No, I thought perhaps he’d wandered over here and you’d put him up for the night.”

  “No ma’am,” Cameron replied stepping up to the horse.

  “This is Sugar,” Priscilla said brightly. “He’s the horse my Pa gave me.”

  “Sugar?” Cam raised an eye brow.

  “Yep. Because he’s sweet,” the young woman smiled. “And white,” she added with a grin.

  Cameron Royal stepped up to the stall and looked over the horse. Sugar was a fine specimen of a quarter horse cross. Tall, lean limbs, a high slightly arched neck and wide well-muscled hind quarters.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at something lying in the straw.

  “It looks like a piece of paper,” Prissy said, opening the door and walking in. “It’s a note,” she called, lifting the page.

  Leaving the stall, she handed it to her mother, who walked toward the light of a brightening day, peering at it.

  “Dear Ms. Adams, I do ‘pologize for leavin’ my cayuse with ya, but I can’t keep him no more, and I knew he’d be happy with ya,” Maud read, holding the note up to the light.

  “What?” Cam asked in shock. “A cowpoke gave you his horse?” His voice was incredulous.


  “It appears so.”

  “Sugar was born, here so maybe he felt he should be at home,” Prissy said hopefully. “Will he have to go again?” she asked finally, her voice dropping.

  “No, he can stay,” Maud answered, turning a soft smile on her daughter. “We’ll need horses anyway. Mr. Royal, perhaps you can put him to good use.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Prissy, please milk the cow, then come in for breakfast,” Maud finished, turning and walking back toward the house. “Mr. Royal, I’m sure you’re ready for something to eat by now.”

  Cam shook his head, smiling, and followed her across the yard and into the house.

  “Morning, Miss Adams,” Cam said politely as he entered the kitchen. The savory smell of bacon, eggs, and toast assailed his nostrils.

  “Good morning,” Quil smiled. “Please sit and I’ll get you some coffee.”

  “Quil, you’ll have to add another asset to the books,” Maud spoke, walking to the sink and washing her hands before turning the bacon.

  “What asset?” Quil questioned, placing toast and a crock of butter on the table.

  “Sugar.”

  “Mama, what are you talking about?” Quil asked, looking at her mother.

  Maud smiled. “Prissy’s horse dear,” she said. “Sugar has come home.”

  “Did you hear?” Priscilla herself called as she walked into the kitchen a bucket of milk in her hand.

  “I did.”

  “Hear what?” Sara asked walking in, her arms full of wood.

  “Sugar, my horse, has been returned to me. Ma has the note.”

  Sara beamed. “That’s wonderful, but why?”

  “The note said they couldn’t keep him anymore,” Priscilla said with a shrug as she strained the milk.

  Sara set her load of split wood into the fire box and flounced to her sister, giving her a kiss. “I’m so happy for you. Besides, it will help Mr. Royal no end to have another horse.” Her eyes sparkled at the cowboy who lifted his cup in agreement